First contribution comes from Jean Gittins, a local poetess who has penned quite a few poems relating to village life.You can access her page by clicking here.This particular one is a poignant look at how village life has changed over recent years.

AND…. SO ON….

There are Council houses standing in the fields where
we once played
And, there's just a pile of rubble where the horses shoes
were made
But, the church still stands and watches as the old way
Disappears
And it links the Nineteen-hundreds to the past 2,000 years
The springs of crystal water that were blessings in their day
Have now become a 'nuisance' and the becks are piped away
Red squirrels play no longer in the woods of Birch and Beech
And gone the Ancient Chapel where John Wesley once did preach
And gravestones in the Churchyard stand like drunken men
In rows
Among forgotten names and dates the white Cow-parsley grows
The villagers who earned their bread in manual pursuit
Have changed to two-car families, and daily they commute
The men no longer till the fields, the girls no longer glean
If stone could talk, what tales they'd tell
Of changes they have seen
And villagers who've just arrived, and those who've been
here long
Must all be made to feel 'at home', to feel that they 'belong'
For nothing living stays unchanged, and old things pass away
And we must cherish what is best of what we have today.

©Jean Gittins
1992